It is important to remember that humans have lived on the edge of hysterical apocalypse as far back as our written history takes us. Knowing how humans love to be terrorized, it wouldn’t surprise me to discover that our ancestors were whispering fearfully about the imminent end of the world long before they invented written language. It’s just that once we learned our letters, we couldn’t wait to start writing about how soon we were all going to die.

It’s not simply that the End Times play prominently in the final chapters of the Christian Bible, for example–although that is a glaring example of the hysteria that I’m talking about–it’s that the entire basis of the Christian religion was that a)God was basically pissed at humanity, (this is after he was so pissed at us that he flooded the entire planet and started over with Noah), and the reason he even bothered to make a baby with that delightfully coy Mary was because it was time for him to kick some ass and take some names, so you better choose the right team, brother, because bad boys, bad boys whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you? The prophecy of the Messiah was fulfilled when Jesus was born and aww, shit, dawg! You better watch yourself, because the Lord don’t play!

True believers were convinced that the Power at the time, the Roman Empire, had met its match and would be decimated.

True believers eagerly traveled from town to town, singing Tracy Chapman’s “Talkin’ ‘Bout a Revolution” to any Jew smart enough to listen and be converted. They weren’t trying to convert people because they wanted to share a message of love: they were doing it because they believed God was coming down to destroy the unrighteous and the end was near. This shit was going down. Jesus was going to reign victorious, so you better hop on the bandwagon, (Sure, the band only sings that one Tracy Chapman tune, but you get used to it), because he wasn’t going to take any prisoners. They meant it.

True believers were more than a little stunned when their divine little Terminator was unceremoniously executed by the very same Romans he was sent to destroy. (“I did NOT see that coming,” one of them was overheard saying later that night as he dipped his pita bread in a dish of olive oil at Jerusalem’s Macaroni Grill.) But, they quickly reset the narrative to include the highly improbable, contentious resurrection, that thing that single-handedly defines Christianity, and which, after thousands of years, has come to be associated with colored eggs and chocolate rabbits. After they successfully managed to explain away the seeming impossibility of how the Divine could be so easily killed by a mere mortal, they quickly went back to promulgating the impending end of the world, with their side being victorious. But this time they meant it.

True believers were even more stunned when, in 70 A.D., the Romans unceremoniously destroyed the most amazing temple ever built…but they quickly folded that impossible disaster into the narrative as well. (Brilliantly, I might add: “Jesus WILL come back! Oh, yes, he will! When this completely destroyed, unreparable building is rebuilt.” <a ha! Gotcha! That should keep you stumped for a few thousand years.>) And they quickly went back to promulgating the impending end of the world, with their side being victorious. But this time they meant it.

And so it’s gone on and on and on for two thousand years. Back when humans were generally ignorant and uncertain of the properties and principles that govern the universe, that fear that the end of the world was near was almost understandable in a way. After all, if you don’t know that the plague-infected fleas are what are killing all of Europe, of course you’re going to think God is trying to destroy your civilization because you slept with your sister. But, the panic, the uncertainty and the irrational belief that God is trying to murder us haven’t gone away even as we’ve grown more intelligent and have come to realize that our sleeping with our sisters in no way affects God’s mood. Polls still show that entirely too many of us believe that we’re going to be the last living generation on the planet…and we live in an era where we can transplant a face…ONTO SOMEONE ELSE’S FACE! Who is generally someone who has been living for years…WITHOUT A FACE! But, that enhanced knowledge doesn’t seem to make us feel a bit better. Every time something horrible happens,* it’s a sign that God is hell-bent on destroying us and our sinful ways. You’d think, since the Lord is all-powerful and super-duper strong and stuff and has clearly been disappointed in us ever since he created our species, (This DESPITE us having invented Angry Birds and the ballpoint pen. There’s just no pleasing some people.), out of snakes and snails and puppy dog tails, he would just play marbles with us and flick our infinitesimally small planet directly towards the sun and <poof!> problem solved. He could start over on Mars and get it right this time. (Not that God makes mistakes.)

The tenets of Christianity are a useful way for me to illlustrate how comfortable humans are existing in the last moments of time. But Christians are, of course, just one sliver of humanity–granted, a fairly large, very sanctimonious, sliver of humanity, especially in this country–that has energized itself with the warmth of impending fire and brimstone. There are other religions that do that, too. (I say confidently, so as not to make Christians out to be the most paranoid of all the Gods-fearing people on earth, but the truth is I have no idea. Are there? Sure.)

But, there has to be something evolutionarily necessary about this fear of impending doom that we’ve been hauling around for generations. It has to have a purpose, right? Or else how could something so blatantly unnecessary and stupid survive generation after generation, despite all evidence showing its worthlessness? (Like religion itself, say.)

Is the fear of impending death what spurs civilization forward? Because it does seem that the communal, peaceful societies, the ones that accept death and destruction as a symmetrical part of life that is not to be feared…they don’t seem to last very long do they? It seems like the cultures that believe an angry God metes out death and destruction as punishments find those peaceable peoples and roar right over their adorable little communities like locusts on a wheatfield.

There has to be a way to wind down the insanity, though, doesn’t there? Do we really have to get so bent out of shape over every goddamn thing that doesn’t fit perfectly into how we believe the world is supposed to be? Because it doesn’t feel very healthy to me. I don’t get the sense that our civilization is “evolving” into a higher state of consciousness. The way we scream at each other about things we don’t understand. The desperate way we try to glean divine meaning behind completely random, violent acts of Nature. Nancy Grace.

Try not to get caught up in the apocalyptic waves that are constantly pummelling this nation. Our civilization did not collapse, and we were not reduced to eating our young when 19 men used planes as bombs on 9/11, so stop freaking out about Muslims destroying this country. Just because millions of Mexicans and Guatemalans want to live in this country with dignity and respect, that doesn’t mean that we’re all gonna be speaking Spanish, watching Telemundo, and praying to Our Lady of Guadalupe. We’ll survive with them out of the shadows. In fact, we’ll live better because of it. Please stop acting like being forced to endure a background check when purchasing a gun means that civilization is going to end. Wanting to raise tax revenues so that we can pay for our society to function does not mean that we’ll be forced to live like Kevin Costner in Waterworld, using a filtration system to drink our own pee. If we have to raise the age of social security a year, it doesn’t mean that all of our elderly are going to die in the gutter, alone, smelling like Kevin Costner’s pee.

(Of course, the irony of this is it sounds a wee bit like I’m suggesting that, if we don’t stop acting like every bad thing that happens signifies the end of the world, it’ll mean the end of the world. Give yourself a cookie if you figured that out, too.)

Maybe I would just be happier with zeitgeist panic attacks if the people who are upset would hold up more accurate signs of protest. Why not just say what’s really on your mind?

“I CAN’T UNDERSTAND HOW THIS PLANET COULD POSSIBLY FUNCTION WITHOUT ME!”

“I HAVEN’T HAD A CHANCE TO BREED YET!” or, if you regret your offspring, “I HAVEN’T MADE ONE I’M PROUD OF YET!”

“I DON’T WANT SOME RANDOM STRANGER TO HAVE THE POWER TO RANDOMLY KILL ME.”

“I DON’T WANT TO DIE OF STARVATION, THIRSTY, SHOVING DRIED CORN INTO MY MOUTH!”

“I WANT TO BE IMMORTAL!”

“I DON’T WANT ANYTHING TO CHANGE, EVER, BECAUSE CHANGE ALWAYS MEANS SOMETHING BAD IS GOING TO HAPPEN.”

“SERIOUSLY, FUCK, YOU MEAN I’M GOING TO DIE? ARE YOU SHITTING ME?”

“I AM AWED AND OVERCOME WITH TERROR KNOWING THAT NATURE CAN MANIFEST ITSELF IN WAYS THAT WREAK SUCH DESTRUCTION THAT MY 2,100 SQUARE FOOT HOUSE CAN BE REDUCED TO FIREWOOD IN ABOUT FIVE SECONDS AND I AM HELPLESS TO DO ANYTHING TO PREVENT IT SO IT MUST BE THE WORK OF GOD.”

That last one might be a little too long to fit on a sign. That person might need to hire a banner-pulling airplane.

You’re going to die. You won’t be nearly as famous, respected, rich or remembered when you die as you wish you would be. You’ll be lucky if all of your kids even like you. (The ones that act like they do secretly just want your money.) You probably won’t die when you want to, and it’ll probably be a lot more painful than you’d wish it would be. That doesn’t mean that you should freak out about every little bit of news that collides with your worldview. Bad shit is going to happen to you. It doesn’t mean that God is punishing you. It just means that you’re alive. Just try to enjoy that.

*(I mean something grand in scale, of course. Someone getting their face eaten off by achimpanzee or another human being clearly high on some malevolent narcotic is not seen as a sign of God’s vengeance. Probably because that would make God seem to be pretty petty and psychotic, a Hannibal Lecter with a Messiah-complex.)